Werewolves have needs, too
by KauriFish
Summary: Willow helps Oz deal with his lycanthropy. Begins just after "Phases," then continues as dated.
1. JK may have a point

Willow let the hardcover book thud to the desktop in front of the engrossed librarian. Giles' gaze drifted up from the tome he had been perusing to the title of Willow's volume. The edges of his mouth pulled down involuntarily for a moment before he turned his eyes back down.

"Willow, you know I have the greatest respect for all books. Therefore, would you therefore take that... thing out of my library before I'm forced to destroy it?"

Willow collapsed into the chair across from him and pushed the purple and orange-covered book closer to him.

"Giles, don't get all snooty on me. I know you're not much of a fan of modern fiction, but —"

Giles straightened his glasses, frowning at the girl.

"Dickens is modern fiction. Tolkein is modern fiction. This is claptrap, candy-coated nonsense that I must say I'm disappointed you waste your time with."

"But Giles, Rowling is the only author who even hints at some kind of remedy for lycanthropy after the first transformation. I mean, I know we can't cure Oz, but if we could create a potion like the one in this book, it would mean Oz wouldn't spend three nights a month bashing himself against chains. He could just be a doggy. I like doggies." She gave the Watcher her best puppy-dog look.

"I'm sorry, Willow," he said, finally accepting the book, which she had opened to the relevant scene, and glanced at the passage that the girl pointed to. "But you must know that Mrs. Rowling has no background in actual witchcraft. None of these Potter novels bears any relevance to actual, practical magic." He closed the book and pushed it back toward her.

"But Giles," she said, "You haven't even read it. Don't dismiss it without even reading it. I mean, it's not like it's a big sacrifice for you to read one book. You don't even have to read the whole thing — I marked all the paragraphs where she talks about the potion with little sticky notes. With arrows."

Giles sighed and reached for "Prisoner of Azkaban."

Later, outside the school:

Oz adjusted his pinky's position on the E string and flicked his pick across the strings. He winced minutely at the sound and pressed down harder. He had thought the entire fingertip was calloused, but he knew the way the string notched the skin near the nail meant that was in for another long soak in cold tea.

He was shifting the position again and considering re-tuning when he heard a growl in his left ear. He turned his head and nearly whacked Willow in the nose. He quickly recovered with a kiss to her cheek. As he drew back, he saw quite pleased and hopeful look on her face — and a flowerpot clutched between her hands.

"Surprise," she said, grinning.

"I'd agree," he said, smiling back at her.

The stress of the just-finished full moon cycle had not diminished their joy in their newfound relationship, nor the stress of having Giles sit them down for a talk on the dangers of sexually transmitted lycanthropy. The watcher had obviously channeled every bit of his guilt over the fallout of Buffy's tryst with Angel into researching the minute particulars of bodily fluids, teeth, nails, bacteria and mystical forces and their roles in the transmission of werewolf-hood. Giles had been so successful that the two teens had only recently been able to bring themselves to kiss again, and Oz thought he would never get over the image of the librarian demonstrating how to safely French kiss using a dental dam.

Oz scooted over on the lunch table to make room for his girlfriend, and she hopped up next to him, still holding the flowerpot, which contained a small plant bearing strange, yellow flowers.

"We didn't have a fight, did we?" he asked her, teasingly. "I don't remember doing anything to deserve flowers."

Willow smiled. "It's Aconitum vulparia, wolfsbane," she said.

"Wolfsbane? Okay, so you're trying to get rid of me. A Jewell CD would have worked."

She leaned close and laid her head on his shoulder. "Not a chance. Giles and I are working on a potion that will make it easier for you during the change, and all the research says you have to use wolfsbane."

"Easier? Easier like how? I mean, I don't remember any of it, so I'm not sure how it could get easier."

"Believe me, it's not easy on you at the time, and it's sure not easy on the book cage. I'm worried you're going to hurt yourself one of these nights. I'm hoping this potion will let you sleep through all three nights of the full moon, even though you'll still change."

"I could deal with not being all tired the next day. You're the best girlfriend a werewolf could ever have," he said, nuzzling her.

"Yeah, I am," she admitted, nuzzling him back. "So I'm going to plant this, and some other wolfsbane plants, at my house. There's like 100 kinds of wolfsbane and we're not sure if only one of them will work, so we might have to try them all. I'm mail ordering some seeds from Transylvania," she announced, grinning.

"I'll never doubt your mad l33t witch skills, oh Willowy one," he said.

"Ooh, there's Buffy. I'm going to find out if she wants to plant some wolfsbane, too. She's only got garlic in her garden. Oh, and we're going to need some wine from your homeland."

"No problem, he said. "I was born right here in Sunnydale, so any local vintage will do. But my dad says the wine grown around here sucks."

"That's okay. The aconite will make your mouth numb because it's so poisonous so you won't taste anything."

Kissing him quickly, Willow dashed off.

"Oh goody," Oz said before returning his attention to the recalcitrant E string.


	2. Wolfsbane

"Hey," Oz said, walking up to the flowerbed as the witch mulched around a prize wolfsbane specimen.

"Oh, hey," Willow replied, wiping her hands on her already dirty jeans as she rose to greet her boyfriend. He kissed her briefly, then his eyes flicked toward the house.

"Are your folks home?" he asked.

"Yeah, but they just got back and they'll be busy all day, unpacking. Then re-packing 'cause they're going on a go-away to recover from the previous going-away," Willow smiled awkwardly as she explained.

"Sounds like they probably won't have time for the whole meet-the-boyfriend thing," he said.

"I'll explain that to them the next time they're around for more than a day. Which, I think, will be around Hanukkah."

"They're going to find out about me sometime," he said, smiling at her. "Let's just hope it's not because they stop by the library one moonlit night."

"Speaking of which, the first of the post-trial potions will be ready for next week's full moon," she said, grinning at him. "Actually, it's a potion and a spell. But it turns out that we'll be putting the wolfsbane in the incense — or maybe a salve — and not in the potion because Giles said it would probably kill you."

"Glad to hear it," he said, raising his eyebrows slightly.

**March 11, 1998**

Willow slumped in the library seat, watching the werewolf hurl himself against the library cage. The acrid scent of the wolfsbane smudge lingered in the air, seeming to further anger the beast. She pushed the tome that contained the spell away from her, barely containing tears of frustration and guilt.

Giles patted her shoulder.

"Come now, this enchantment had eluded generations of magicians. For your, well, your third effort, for the spell to have been effective so soon would have been a miracle."

The werewolf snarled and began to shred the towels hanging from the inside of the cage.

"Then again, a miracle may be what's needed."

Willow began to collect and reshelve the volumes.

"I bet the problem is that I'm using these old books. I mean, we've done variations of this ritual for two months. If this was the way to go, something good would have happened by now. Maybe someone has worked something out more recently. I'll check online and see if there have been any recent books published on it."

Giles looked over his glasses at her.

"Well, it's worth a shot," she said, defensively.

**March 12, 1998**

"Lycanthropy — have you checked the local authors section?" the salesperson asked brightly. Willow had not seen her at the shop before, surprising given how familiar the new witch was becoming with the place. The woman had been reorganizing the herbs when the hacker had walked in, and she seemed only passingly familiar with the book selection.

"I'm doing some research on the control of lycanthropy, werewolves in particular, and I was hoping to find if there are any recent publications. You know, like this week."

The sales-witch pursed her lips and went behind the computer, quickly pulling up a list of new publications.

"There's not been much published in the last decade. The '50s, that's to say the 1850s, looks like it was the big decade for werewolves. It looks like the recent stuff is more about getting in touch with your animal nature." She listed off a few titles.

Willow shook her head. "I've seen those and they're not what I need. Do you have anything like an updated Grimvance's Grimoire? Maybe with a better translation from German?"

"Doesn't look like it."

Willow gritted her teeth in frustration and muttered, "Great, I can do revocation spells, but I can't do the opposite of a curse, whatever that is."

"You did a revocation spell?" the sales-witch asked, perking up. "What were you revoking?"

"Well, an invitation into a house," Willow admitted, squirming inwardly. That subject was supposed to be a secret. The woman looked sympathetic.

"Something about a bad relationship?"

"Yeah, kind of. A friend broke up with this guy and she didn't want him to be able to come into her house anymore."

"Did she think about a restraining order?"

Willow winced. "Don't know that a restraining order would work."

"If he spent much time there, she might also think about doing a cleansing, to get rid of his energy."

"None of the books I ever read mentioned it. How do you do that?"

The saleswoman pushed her glasses up and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"You mean you don't even know how to do basic energy work and you're getting into esoterica like revocations and werewolves? Kids these days... They shouldn't even sell spellbooks to people who haven't learned how to clear their channels and cast a protection circle. People read J.K. Rowling and figure they can just open a book and go hocus pocus."

Willow felt her face grow hot.

"Well why are you selling this stuff if you don't think it's a good idea?"

She shrugged. "Favor for a friend, she couldn't make it in today and couldn't get anyone else to cover for her. Knew I wouldn't sell somebody mandrake when they wanted licorice root. I don't mean to bitch you out, it's not like they're offering classes in this stuff, or that the classes that are out there aren't a rip-off. Look, things are kind of dead now. Let's do some basic grounding and centering exercises, then you can see what I'm talking about."

Willow fought with her annoyance for a moment, but the promise of help from someone who seemed to know what she was doing outweighed her embarrassment.

"Okay, thanks. My name's Willow."

"I go by Onyx. Pleased to meet you."


	3. The right god

"And then we did the Tree of Life meditation and she said that I contaminated my channels and we did this clearing exercise and there was so much energy I couldn't believe it —" Willow babbled as her boyfriend watched and half-listened, absently strumming, the hint of a smile on his lips.

"And she said that I'm probably not going to find the spell in a book, so I'll have to do some divination and work it out myself. I'd never thought you could do that. I thought that all the spells were written down and you just did them. So I'm trying to decide if I should do a Tarot reading or something. She said that throwing the I Ching with real yarrow sticks works really well for her, but I'm thinking Tarot. What do you think?"

"I'm thinking it's still three and a half weeks until the next full moon, so I'm not really thinking about it."

Willow bounced up from the bed and kissed him.

"Maybe I'll just do a meditation. Onyx said I should try doing free-form stuff, just to see what happens."

Oz reached for her and kissed her more firmly.

"Be careful, okay?"

She smiled widely, excitement in her eyes.

"Oh, yeah. Plenty careful. that's me."

**That evening**

Willow finished arranging the last of the print-outs in a circle around her. The name of every deity she could pull up was printed in columns on the half-dozen sheets. She stood carefully to avoid jostling the papers and clutched the small moonstone in her hand. This felt right, this was just what her meditations had led her to.

She took a deep breath and raised her fist with the moonstone inside to the ceiling.

"Oh gods, hear my plea. Hear me. I ask in the name of my love, if one of you can lend me the aid I require, let yourself be known."

She closed her eyes and turned three times, then dropped the stone.

She quickly looked down, then dropped to her knees in front of the paper. The domed moonstone had landed neatly on one name, and that name was faintly visible within the stone. Willow's brow wrinkled as she examined it, then pulled the stone away to make sure.

"Aphrodite?"

**The next morning**

Onyx looked at the redhead with some affection and a lot of amusement.

"Well, you love this guy, right?"

Willow blushed again and glanced around the coffee shop to see if anyone had overheard.

"Well, yeah and anyway I said so when I was doing the divination."

"You're not going to fool a god with spell wording, believe me. So, are you going to invoke her? She's not the worst one to work with, you know. I mean, what if Cernunnos had come up?"

"I was kind of thinking that would be more likely, given the werewolf thing."

"Yeah, but a woodland god like that isn't going to be interested in helping a lycanthrope more in control. He'd be more likely to help the werewolf infect you so you could go romping in the woods in the moonlight. But Aphrodite, offer up some pearls and seawater and she might actually give you something that will work."

"Really? I mean, she wouldn't just laugh and make me fall in love with a mule or something?" Her hand tightened around her coffee cup.

"Well, she not so much known for being predictable. But it's a good shot. Better than casting musty old spells anyway. She'll probably want you to prove your love is true or something, that's more her thing. Just make the offering a good one. And when you get the seawater, make sure you avoid the sewer outfall."

Willow wrinkled her nose and looked at the witch in puzzlement.

"Long story. I'd better go and get back to the shop."

"Filling in again?"

"Yeah. Poor Serena. A customer of hers got killed and she's worried about it. She had just sold her some high-powered item and she has ethical problems, thinks she might have enabled her customer to get into trouble, fatal trouble. One of the problems of selling magic paraphernalia."

Willow finished off her coffee and rose.

"I wish her luck. There's way too much of that going around."


	4. Invoking the goddess

**April 4, 1998**

The waves lapped at Willow's feet and her white chiton flapped slightly in the breeze. She turned her face up toward the crescent moon and lifted the pearl necklace up.

"Aphrodite, great goddess of love, pure and true, hear me and answer my prayer."

She cast the necklace into the water, almost entirely without cringing at the cost. "Foamborn one, Aphrodite, hear my prayer."

A larger wave broke around her knees, and, as it receded, the water foamed around the spot that had received the necklace. As the next wave passed over the spot a figure swiftly rose from the water, a pale and shining, nude woman who held the necklace in her hand, looking at it for a moment before turning her face toward the witch.

Willow was speechless as Aphrodite approached her, eyes full of mirth and compassion. The goddess ran cool fingers over the witch's face and caught her gaze. Willow felt lost inside those deep, blue eyes.

"You do have purity of purpose, but this guilt, why this guilt, my lovely one? You are all innocence. This guilt does not please me. Give it up. Let the water take it away and it will return the knowledge that you desire. I hear your prayer with favor, little Willow."

The goddess pressed a kiss to the witch's brow. Willow could not help but close her eyes, and when they opened, the shining form was gone. She felt strange and bereft, but uplifted. The mix of emotions swirled within her, opening something within her that had long lain closed. Tears poured down her face, and as they hit the water at her feet, she felt something swiftly drawn from her. Just as quickly, she felt knowledge flow in, an understanding that left her warm despite the cold water and night air.

**The next morning**

The slayer and the witch strode toward the school, deep in conversation.

"So Aphrodite told you how to cure Oz? Willow, you are the best witch ever. You rock!"

Willow shook her head. "Not cure, exactly. But the spell will give him some control when he's in wolf-form. Like, he won't be out of his mind anymore."

"Wow, is it a big, hairy spell? You don't have to raise any demons, do you?"

"Nope, no demons."

Buffy stopped and looked at her best friend.

"Why does something in your voice say that a demon might not be so bad?"

Willow blushed deeply.

"Well, as you may know, Oz and I haven't exactly — gone very far yet..."

Buffy frowned as the implications became clear to her.

"And since this spell is from a love goddess —"

"Yeah, basically."

"Will, I hate to be a downer, but I think given the circumstances..."

"I know, I know. What happened to Angel. But that wasn't exactly under divine supervision," the witch explained as the two started to walk again.

"No, it wasn't," the slayer admitted. "Nothing like that at all. Do you think Oz will be okay with it?"

"I don't know. He's not one to rush into anything, and I think he's kind of tired of the whole wolfsbane thing. I mean, he was really sore the morning after I did the last spell and I don't know how patient he's going to be with more rituals, even without the s-e-x part."

They reached their lockers and Willow started to open hers.

"I guess you could tie him down," Buffy said, smiling.

"Actually, that part is mandatory," Willow said, then dashed off to class.

**That afternoon**

Oz caught up with his girlfriend as they passed the social studies room, sneaking a quick kiss to her cheek. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him.

"Uh oh," he said.

Her radiant smile turned to a frown.

"Uh oh? What uh oh?"

"That look. It either means you aced another computer science class, in which case those suits are going to snatch you off the streets, or you figured out a new way to make wolfsbane incense smell even worse."

"Nope, no wolfsbane. I do have a new lead on something to do for your furry problem. But I don't know that this is the right place to discuss it." She marked her words with a kiss to his nose.

"Uh oh," he said. Again.


	5. The dry run

**That evening**

Willow jumped up at the sound of the doorbell. She opened the door to find Oz, smiling a bit awkwardly.

"'Rents?"

"Nah, away again. Come on in."

"Thanks," he said, making his way into the still somewhat unfamiliar space of the Rosenberg living room. She followed and they sat on the sofa.

"So —" they both began at once, and simultaneously dissolved into giggles. In solemn mime, Oz gestured to Willow to roshambo. Her paper covered his rock and she spoke first.

"So I have really good news. I did a special divination and came up with a ritual to help you keep control while you're in werewolf form."

"Well good. I appreciate," he said, concern showing itself in his slightly knit brow.

"I met this lady at the magic shop and she said that I'd been going at it wrong, looking it up in books rather than going to the real source. So I did and a deity came forth to help me out."

"This isn't a deal with blood sacrifices and all that? Because, werewolf thing aside, I'm not so much into the blood thing."

"Well, there may be a little blood, which is why I bring this up. The goddess who helped me is Aphrodite and she was pretty specific about the ritual."

Oz swallowed.

"Details?"

"We'll need to find someplace on the coast, preferably right near the water. I'm thinking someplace kind of far away from Sunnydale, you know, to make it less likely that we'll be interrupted by things that go bump in the night."

"Fair enough."

"And it will have to have a pretty solid table with someplace for the chains and stuff."

"So, private."

"Well, we wouldn't want to disturb anybody."

"Right, what else?"

Willow tried to force herself to speak, but could not find words that did not make steam shoot from her ears at the very thought of saying them to her boyfriend. He smiled and stroked her hair, then whispered in her ear, "You're so cute when you're flustered."

She smiled back at him in gratitude, still blushing furiously.

"So I'm thinking this ritual will not involve Giles."

Willow had not though she could blush any deeper red, but found that she was managing just fine.

"Yes," she whispered. He nuzzled her and breathed her fragrance.

"If you can't tell me, maybe you should show me what you mean. A dry run." He lay back on the sofa, looking up at her. "Chains?" he asked, moving his hands up to the arm of the sofa. Willow nodded, then stood to let him stretch out.

"There's incense, and some words," she said very softly. "And —" she knelt on the couch and straddled him, still blushing hotly, but the feel of his body under hers and her desire to help him unite the two parts of himself drove her on.

Oz was looking at her with eyes wide, but refrained from speaking or moving. He had a feeling where this was going, and he wasn't sure yet if it was a good idea, but the intensity of her intention was impressing the hell out of him. And she felt incredibly good on top of him, the evidence of which she encountered as she shifted. A look halfway between pride and panic crossed her face, and she looked at him, reassured by the affection in his eyes.

She dropped her eyes, overwhelmed but coping, and continued, "Then I call on Aphrodite and we — we — you know... While the change happens. And then you should still be in control while you're the werewolf." She looked shyly back up at him.

Oz wrapped his arms around her and cradled her to his chest, kissing the top of her head and murmuring to her. "You're the best. I'm the luckiest guy ever."

She snuggled her cheek into his shoulder and marinated in bliss for a long time.


	6. Details over pasta

Willow dug into her plate of pasta while Oz tore into a meatball sandwich. He had insisted on taking her out to dinner after their dry run, which she took as a good sign. She was dying to know what he thought, but had grown to know the taciturn man well enough to know that he would speak when he was ready. She resolved to wait until then.

That lasted about five minutes.

"So, what do you think? I'm sure it would work, she was really specific —"

He looked at her and she fell silent.

"I'm still thinking — it's a pretty awesome idea, that a big time goddess like her took an interest."

"She totally took an interest. Oh Oz, you wouldn't believe how beautiful she was."

He smiled. "I think if I was there I wouldn't have noticed her, what with you in a toga and all."

"It's not a toga, it's a chiton. A toga is when a guy wears it."

He watched her with that familiar mix of amusement and affection while he swallowed a bite of sandwich.

"The thing is, it's a big step, and doing that for a spell wasn't how I saw our first time. And I kind of didn't see chains being part of the picture, either."

Willow took a big gulp of iced tea.

"But it doesn't have to be our first —" she cut herself off.

Oz raised his eyebrows.

"Well, the whole how-to-do-the-ritual thing was all in one flash, but it's all still totally clear, especially as I think about it more, and it wasn't a first-time thing.

Cue eyebrows again.

"She not exactly big on the virginity thing. I mean, she was kind of amused that I'm still — but it wasn't like it was a big deal. It's the connection thing, the — act, you know, bridging the gap between you and wolf-you."

He watched her intensely. Willow felt breathless, pinned by his gaze.

"Okay," said Oz. "We've got a week 'til moon-time, so there's time to reconsider, but I think I'm good with this."

"Really?" Willow asked eagerly. "'Cause I don't want to push you into anything —"

Oz grinned. "That's supposed to be my line."

The witch grinned and blushed.

"I'm glad. Anyway, it will be better if you drive us since when I went out to do the divination I had to take the bus and it took forever because I thought it wasn't such a good idea to be out at night near Sunnydale alone because — grr — fangs, you know."

"I'm glad you were cautious-Willow. No worries, I'll drive."

"Great, I'm so glad you're good with this, Oz."

"How could I say no? Now finish that pasta. Keep up your strength." He took a big bite of his sandwich and growled through it. "You know not the might of wolfy-Oz."

Willow burst into laughter.


	7. The first time

April 9, 1998

Oz pulled his girl close as the music pulsed around them. He tried to tune out his fault-finding with the band, which was not on tonight, not surprising for a Thursday night at the Bronze. He was getting prickles of wolfishness, not too bad for two nights before the full moon, but he felt everything tugging at him. His ears picked up too much, and he had to focus to keep his mind on game.

Fortunately, it wasn't too hard. Willow was an excellent thing to focus on.

The redhead looked up at him, swaying with the music. He pulled her against his chest. She felt so right. He rested his chin on her shoulder, nuzzling her neck. She melted into him, moving limply with the rhythm. His lips suddenly found hers and they were locked onto each other. His hands gripped her back through her sweater as a feeling equal parts exquisite pleasure and painful longing surged through him. Willow was nearly overwhelmed at the rising tide of desire within her, and trembled as Oz whispered to her, "Let's go."

The Osbourne home was dark as the van shuddered to a halt on the street in front of it. Willow looked inquiringly at it and then at him.

"Gone for a long weekend," he said.

"Oh," she replied, a mischievous smile lurking around her lips, enticing Oz to kiss her once again. He pulled her toward him, then discovered that she had not unhooked her seat belt. That prompted caution from him once again.

"We don't have to do this," he said.

Willow smiled and slid out of her seat toward him. "But we want to," she said, then kissed him again, sweeping away all doubts.

They made it inside before the night was out. Barely.


	8. Salty blessings

April 10, 1998

"It's this one," Willow cried as she spied the state beach sign. Oz slowed and eased the van into the off-ramp. The sun was just starting its descent into the ocean. They were pushing their schedule, but it had been very difficult to pull themselves out of bed. Willow smiled as she thought about that night. And that morning. And afternoon. The look her boyfriend gave her revealed his warm recollection of those events as well.

The lifeguard hut Willow had decided on as the best place for the ritual was well away from the hot spots for both sunset watchers and night surfers, and Oz was able to park very close. Which was a good thing, considering how heavy the chains were.

He attached the chains to the sturdy, metal desk as Willow placed seashells and candles of iridescent blue and white around the room, the sprinkled sea water. As she finished, he said, "It's nearly time," and began to strip, no longer shy in front of the redhead. She watched with eyes full of love as he lay down on their altar. The witch chained him, gently but thoroughly, hands together over his head and legs slightly spread. Her white chiton stirred slightly as she moved, and she began the incantation.

"Aphrodite, we dedicate this place to you, as your temple for this night," she intoned, circling the alter with incense, sweet and rich as it swirled in the air. She stopped at the foot of the altar and called, "Aphrodite, we summon you to bless us this night." Willow unclasped the chiton and let it fall to the floor. She climbed up on the altar and straddled Oz and anointed them both with rose oil. The witch raised her arms, "Hear us, foamborn goddess, send your power through me to my lover. Let your gentle touch heal the rift between man and wolf. In your name, Aphrodite, let our will be done."

Oz arched up as she lowered herself down, a surge filling them with energy as the first real pangs of the change rippled through him. As she began to move, and unnoticed by the pair, a salt-scented breeze stole through the room, twisting in a circle, faster and faster. The rough walls of the room gave way to the distant view of green hills and moonlit water, enclosed by marble columns.

Their eyes stayed locked as their bodies moved. Oz felt the wolf slowly come forth, and for a moment it seemed his mind would give way, but a fresh surge of energy filled him, and suddenly he was the wolf and himself all at once — and at one with his friend and lover. She bent to kiss him and free his hands. Joyfully he wrapped his arms around her and the two seemed to blend, spiraling into one.

Some timeless time later, they came back to themselves. Willow played with Oz's fur and he gently growled, his clawed hands gently stroking her. She smiled and gave thanks to Aphrodite, then rose to unlock the chains from his ankles. He stood and she took his hand, and the pair walked out into the moonlight — together.


	9. Epilogue

October 6, 1999

Oz prowled through the UC Sunnydale campus by the side of the Slayer. They passed a group of students. One looked back for a moment, and Oz returned her gaze, then sniffed deeply and frowned. He faced back toward their destination and they walked for a moment while Oz pondered. He turned to Buffy and said, "We have a problem."

But, in the end, she wasn't a problem at all.


End file.
